


Growing Pains and Pleasures

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: AkaKuroValentine2016, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance, Sugary sweet, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:03:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5992543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Seijurou prepares for the Kingdom of Rakuzan's flower festival and his own private event to secure the hand of his love.</p>
<p>Pairing: Akashi Seijurou/Kuroko Tetsuya</p>
<p>Submission for AkaKuro Valentine's Day Exchange! Fluff, fluff, and more fluff!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Pains and Pleasures

**Author's Note:**

> AN: This is my submission for the AkaKuro Valentine's Day Exchange! I hope my Akashi #94 enjoyed it. I unfortunately do not know much about Undertale, so I could not write a fic about that in such a short time, but I hope you like the mix of Fantasy, Kingdom, and Marriage Proposal.
> 
> And to anyone else who reads, Happy Valentine's Day!!! Keep shipping, lovelies!
> 
> Disclaimer: Characters all belong to Tadatoshi Fujimaki, although I love them very much :3

“I think it would be really nice if we could enchant white and pink flowers to fall from the top of Rakuzan tower,” Satsuki added, twirling a long strand of pink hair around an elegant finger and rolling one of the pearl beads clips their between the pads of her thumb and index. Today she had worn a turquoise colored dress with a tight navy corset around her chest and small pearls as accents around the collar and hems of her sleeves.

 

Seijurou contemplated the image for a moment before nodding. “Yes, that would be a good addition to the décor. We would need to add an ephemeral spell as well, so they would not cause too great a mess on the town square. Shintaro?”

 

Shintaro sighed, clearly put-upon by the romantic whims of his fellow festival coordinator. “It’s possible, but the cost of employing two mages to continuously weave transubstantiation magic in addition to ephemeral magic is not insubstantial.”

 

Seijurou noted the addition to the festival plan in his scheduling book, remarking casually, “I have already said that cost is not an issue for this festival, Shintarou. The king has every intent of astounding the foreign dignitaries on their arrival with the Flower festival in full bloom.” _And I have my own reasons for ensuring its vibrancy_ , Akashi thought, but he did not begrudge Shintarou his miserly ways of saving money. As the son of the finance minister, his longtime friend and advisor came by it honestly.

 

“Ah,” Satsuki sighed whimsically, looking out of the window of Seijurou’s office. “I can’t wait! The castle decorated in gold and red, the town white and pink with sakura blossoms and white roses. The castle garden’s open to the public for visitors. And then the festival night, with the magic show lighting up the sky. So _romantic_. If only Dai-chan wasn’t such a blumbering idiot and would ask me to the magic show already…” she grumbled.

 

Shintarou scoffed, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He set a particularly foreboding picture that morning, dressed immaculately in a black vest and trousers, the only color arising from the dark green buttons and the inner lining of the cloak attached to his shoulders. “Foolish….”

 

“Whatever, Midorin,” Satsuki fired back at once. “I know for a fact that you’re taking Takao-kun around to all of the booths and are going to the magic show together.”

 

Shintarou flushed a bright red, stuttering, “That’s-that’s not—what has he been telling—“

 

“At any rate,” Akashi stepped in smoothly, heading off the argument bubbling to the surface of Shintarou’s indignation and Satsuki’s smug smile, “I would like to talk a bit more about the royal banquet that night.” He handed them several sheets of paper, pressed neatly together with clips. “This is the menu for the seven courses, which I have already made a few adjustments to as well. For the first course, I asked that a caprése salad with a sweet red wine be served, rather than…”

 

They continued reviewing the logistics for the banquet for a couple hours, segueing into the plans for the street markets through the middle of town and around the square until a knock sounded at the door.

 

“Seijurou, Mrs. Momoi, Mr. Midorima,” the king greeted politely as he entered. Satsuki and Shintarou immediately stood from their seats and bowed in greeting.

 

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty,” Satsuki replied cheerfully, scooping her folders and journals from their careful chaos on the edge of Seijurou’s desk. She’d clearly understood the dismissal in the serious eyes of the king. Shintarou had also gathered his notebook in tightly bandaged hands and brushed his cloak.

 

“Satsuki, Shintarou, thank you for your cooperation and dedication on this matter,” Seijurou said as he stood from his seat and gave them a small smile. “I’d like to reconvene one more time in the morning to finish finalizing the decoration and banquet plans.”

 

Satsuki gracefully bowed, Shintarou’s a rigid bend from the waist that looked awkward by comparison, before sweeping from the room with a bright smile.

 

Seijurou watched them go, before turning to his father. Dressed in the stiff vestments and thick layers of the king, Masaomi Akashi looked casually over the meticulously detailed plans organized on his son’s desk, the dark red of his hair matching the ruby inlay of the silk vest and the underlining of his cloak.

 

“I see the plans are coming along magnificently,” he remarked, giving the plans an approving nod. “I trust that the dietary specifications of our guests have been taken into account?”

 

“Certainly, Father,” Seijurou replied. “I have already requested that the chef add more meat dishes to the main course, per the Kagami family’s request. I do remember their last visit to the kingdom. Prince Taiga has a notoriously large appetite.”

 

“Indeed,” the king answered, a thin layer of amusement within his otherwise placid tone. “Prince Taiga is reputed to be a prominent swordsman in Seirin, his strength so far unmatched by the best of the King’s Guard. He and Prince Tatsuya are very well-liked amongst the people for their charming personalities and generosity.”

 

Seijurou eyed him sharply as he sat back down in his seat, folding his arm and relaxing his chin in the palm of his hand. “ I have heard that as well,” he replied shortly.

 

“Either would make a suitable husband for you, Seijurou. Their amiable characters would add a warmth to your reign in the future.”

 

Seijurou had known it was coming: his father’s continued pressure to choose another kingdom’s prince or princess as his partner. “We have been over this several times already. Tetsuya is my chosen partner. Do you still have reservations on the legitimacy of his lineage?”

 

The king sighed, turning to look his son in the eyes. “Seijurou, you know that I do not have any particular disapproval of Kuroko-kun. I think he is a very fine young mage, exceedingly polite and well mannered, if a bit too quiet. I simply believe that Prince Taiga or Prince Tatsuya would be better suited to be on the throne alongside you after I step down. They are natural leaders, charismatic, passionate—“

 

“All things that Tetsuya possesses as well,” Seijurou countered. “He simply holds these qualities within himself until they are necessary. He is more reserved, more graceful than Prince Taiga or Tatsuya could ever aspire to be. He is the grandson of the Lady Kuroko, the most revered negotiator in the history of Rakuzan, who settled the peace between our country and the Teikou Empire over fifty years ago. I would think that pedigree and her tutelage of him would be more than enough to recommend him to any king.”

 

His father nodded his agreement of this description, though the turn of his mouth indicated his continued doubt in Tetsuya’s potential as a leader for their people. Seijurou resigned himself to having this discussion a few more times yet. He knew the qualities that his father wished to see in his lover were there; the situation was just that Tetsuya, deeply private and contemplative, was not always forthcoming with his abilities. He rather enjoyed moving an invisible hand, gentle and knowing, amongst the matters that needed his aid and allowing parties to reconcile without noticeable intervention on his part. His Tetsuya preferred to remain in the shadows, though Seijurou would not allow him to continue for much longer. He deserved recognition for his efforts.

 

“At any rate, this is a moot point,” Seijurou began again, allowing dauntless steel to harden his voice. “I have already chosen Tetsuya, and there is no hope of persuading otherwise. You will see in time all that he has to offer. I have complete faith in him.”

 

“I knew the moment you began to disappear to the castle archives for hours during the week that I would have no hope of dissuading you from his side,” King Akashi chuckled, the stern façade of the king falling for a moment to allow the affectionate father to shine through. “You received my obstinate nature and Shiori’s loyal heart.”

 

A veil of sadness softened his face at the mention of Seijurou’s mother. “I can imagine what she would think of my attempt to change your mind. You know…that it is not that I do not want you to be happy, Seijurou.”

 

“I know, Father,” he answered softly.

 

The other man nodded tightly. “I suppose I will simply have to trust your instinct in this.”

 

“Yes,” his son answered rather impudently, startling another laugh from the king.

 

The king gave him a sly look. “I have also noticed that your care in the arrangements of the festival is very detailed and has been given a substantial amount of thought by you. Am I to assume that this year’s flower festival will have much more significance than those in the past?”

 

Seijurou felt a flame of anticipation spark to life in his chest, meeting his father’s smirk with one of his own. “I will leave you to your observations, Father.”

 

* * *

 

 

Seijurou moved silently through the tall shelves of tomes, his white cloak brushing against the spines of the books. He walked to the back corner of the archives, where a dark green chaise sat in front of a large open window. Gossamer curtains danced slowly in the light wind, curling around the stacks of books on the floor and the figure reclined against the chaise’s arm, nose buried in The _Lexicon of Vaporious Transformative Enchantments_.

 

That day, Tetsuya had chosen to wear a white silk shirt with a light blue waistcoat, matching blue trousers, and a gray cloak draped over a nearby desk. His hair, bright and teal, brushed lazily along his forehead like the ripples of water along a pond.

 

“Tetsuya,” he greeted warmly, moving to sit on the chaise next to him.

 

“Good afternoon, Prince Seijurou.” Tetsuya marked his place in the tome with a worn bookmark and closed the text, placing it on his lap. He gave Seijurou that impossibly gentle and affectionate smile that washed through him like a hot wave, drowning him in the answering surge of emotion he felt for this mage. The smile that he had only ever seen Tetsuya offer to _him_.

 

“It’s Seijurou, Tetsuya,” he reminded the other man fondly, though he knew how Tetsuya would respond to that.

 

“Prince Seijurou is still a Prince, whether he is in the archives or seated with His Majesty on the throne.”

 

“I never feel like a prince anymore when I am with you. Only Seijurou, only Tetsuya,” he murmured quietly in return, delighting in the deep flush rising from Tetsuya’s neck.

 

“That is quite bold, Prince Seijurou,” Tetsuya scolded quietly, his eyes, blue like the sea, fixed determinedly on his lap.

 

He wanted to reach across the seat and bring Tetsuya closer to him, to lay kisses like blessings along the pinked skin of his neck and cheeks, to hold his hand and entwine their fingers, so powerful in their magic and movements, that sparks might fire at their very touch. He resisted the temptation, respectful of Tetsuya’s desire for discretion, but his impatience was steadily growing. He contented himself with the knowledge that soon his relationship with Tetsuya would be much more permanent.

 

“Have you had a nice day, Prince Seijurou?” Tetsuya inquired, watching him an apathetic face. Those closest to Tetsuya would be able to see the fond look in his eyes, the softening of his mouth, and the relaxed posture as signs of his actual mood.

 

“I have been playing peace-maker with Satsuki and Shintarou as they work on the plans for the flower festival,” he answered, sharing an amused smile with Tetsuya. “I have also had to make a few adjustments to the banquet menu to accommodate the Kagami family.”

 

Tetsuya smiled at the mention of his friend, the Prince Taiga. Three years ago, the Prince had come to the kingdom as part of summit on trade negotiations, after which he and Tetsuya had become thick as thieves. Seijurou had managed to control his jealousy at their closeness much better than Tetsuya’s childhood friend Aomine. His and the Prince’s rivalry over Tetsuya’s friendship was quickly becoming a legend amongst the palace servants and the townspeople for its often-destructive battles.

 

They were free to fight over Tetsuya’s friendship, so long as his heart remained firmly with Seijurou.

 

“Between Prince Taiga and Aomine-kun, we shall be lucky to eat more than an appetizer or salad,” he remarked with hidden amusement.

 

Seijurou chuckled softly, and for a few moments they sat in peaceful silence, enjoying the comforting company and the nice weather beyond the window. He was looking at the spines of the books perched on the floor, wondering what subject had caught Tetsuya’s interest that afternoon, when he spoke, “I suppose Prince Tatsuya will be coming for the festival as well.”

 

“So I have heard,” Seijurou replied, his tone relating his indifference to that particular notion. Inside, however, he felt a flash of anger at his father for the insecurity hiding within that comment.

 

“The king seems to favor him quite a bit.”

 

Seijurou heard the unspoken _much more than he favors me_.

 

“My father is very interested in the orb communications system that Prince Tatsuya helped create for the guilds within Seirin. He would like to implement a similar system along the perimeter fortifications here.”

 

“Prince Seijurou.”

 

Seijurou turned to meet Tetsuya’s gaze at that, meeting those doubtful blue eyes with fierce confidence. “Any other designs my father might have that involve Prince Tatsuya are irrelevant.” He dared to trespass into Tetsuya’s personal space to pick up his hand and press his lips lightly against his knuckles. “My heart and hand have already been spoken for.” _And soon yours shall be as well_.

 

Tetsuya pulled his hand from Seijurou’s grasp, his face a lovely red. His other hand wrapped around his kissed hand, as if to shield the spot from view. “Prince….”

 

“There will likely not be enough time in the next few days for me to spend time with you here,” he continued. “I would love to spend the last night of the festival with you, to watch the magic show. Shall we meet at our usual place within the royal gardens after the banquet?”

 

Tetsuya agreed with that small, beautiful smile.

 

* * *

 

 

The following days were hectic and chaotic within the castle as preparations for the festival and the oncoming royalty guests were underway. The traditional ornamentation of the royal castle had to be taken down in favor of the festival decorations, and the throne room and banquet hall were now emblazoned in gold and red, flickering under the chandeliers like fire.

 

Satsuki had arranged for large displays of red and yellow roses, dotted with sprigs of baby’s breath, to be placed around the entrance hall and had charmed the bouquets to emit a sweet but elegant fragrance. Long streams of silk fabric had been strung along the ceiling of the throne room, emphasizing the tapestry hanging behind the throne of the king, which boaster the Akashi family coat of arms: a shield divided into four parts featuring the silhouettes of a crown, a knight, a sword crossed with a scepter, and a lion.

 

The maids and servants had been working feverishly to ready the diplomat apartments on the eastern side of the castle, which left Seijurou and Satsuki to make the final check of every room to ensure its suitability for royal guests while Shintarou observed the readying of the royal gardens for the festival. Fortunately, the townspeople rejoiced in decorating the streets and square for the festival themselves, and after several inspections and suggestions Seijurou had approved their hard work.

 

Unfortunately for Seijurou, after that lovely afternoon in the archives, there had been hardly a spare moment to sleep, let alone join Tetsuya by their window amongst the shelves. He had seen Tetsuya twice over the past five days, once in the hallway talking with an agitated Aomine, the other occasion from the grounds looking up at the archives’ windows. Tetsuya had looked surprised that Seijurou had noticed him, giving a small wave before retreating into the safety of his beloved library. He wondered if Tetsuya had been watching him as he directed the workers manicuring the grounds and felt an aching warmth at the idea.

 

His nightly hour of shogi before bed and the occasional ride through the forest just outside the castle walls on his horse Yukimura had also been sacrificed to micro-managing the festival until every detail had been checked twice and approved, which had soured his already discontent mood. By the time the diplomats and royal guests had arrived, Seijurou was contemplating simply handing off the rest of the duties to Satsuki and Shintarou to seek refuge with the tranquility that embodied Tetsuya’s presence. He skillfully hid his exhaustion behind the veneer of the dutiful prince and smiled charmingly at the Kagami royal family.

 

King Kagami was instantly recognizable with his towering form and boisterous character, his greeting ringing in the ears of the more reserved council members in the Rakuzan court. He had red hair several shades darker than Seijurou and his father, a wide smile, and enough energy to strangle a tornado spell with his bare hands. His son, similarly tall and full of energy, lacked his father’s amiable feeling when it came to the Akashi family and had a blunt manner of speaking that often chafed the ears. Prince Tatsuya, on the other hand, had sleek dark hair and an elfin face, his thin frame draped in purples and blacks as opposed to his cousin’s gray vestments. He gave Seijurou a polite smile, which was returned at their introductions.

 

“It is a pleasure to make you acquaintance again, Prince Seijurou,” Himuro said smoothly, reaching his hand forward to shake Seijurou’s.

 

“And you as well, Prince Tatsuya,” he replied, gripping his hand tightly before letting go, aware of the speculative eyes of King Kagami and the disapproving ones of Prince Taiga watching them carefully. “It is good to see you again as well, Prince Taiga. Tetsuya is greatly looking forward to speaking with you.”

 

“Yo,” Kagami greeted, ignoring his father’s furious look at the perceived rudeness. Seujurou himself did not care beyond simple irritation; for reasons unspeakably obscure to Seijurou, Tetsuya greatly valued this oaf’s friendship and had proven quite defensive of him on occasion.

 

After the introductions, Seijurou led them to their rooms, ignoring the interested glances of Prince Tatsuya as he gave them an abbreviated tour of the castle to remind them of its layout. Having finished doing so as quickly but respectfully as he could manage, Seijurou set off for the archives, hoping for a blissful hour to rest with Tetsuya on the chaise.

 

“Seijurou, wait, I have a question about the arrangement of the events tomorrow.”

 

He heard his father’s voice call him from the door of the throne room as he passed. After furiously debating simply ignoring the call, Seijurou turned around on the heel of his foot, cautioning himself from showing his frustration. With his father having tentatively accepted the certainty of Tetsuya as his future son-in-law, Seijurou was not about to jeopardize the truce that had arisen and the acceptance that had cleared the way to securing his lover’s hand.

 

* * *

 

A day before the festival was set to begin, Seijurou finally managed to grab a spare moment in the afternoon and immediately headed to the archives, only to find the green chaise devoid of blue-haired bibliophiles and the window firmly shut. Disappointment had his shoulders falling and a hard sigh pushing from his chest before he forced himself to straighten and leave the archives, headed for the kitchens to have a light lunch.

 

As he grew closer to the kitchens, he overheard a familiar voice, chiding softly under the stirring of a whisk in a bowl.

 

“Thank you for this, Prince Taiga.” He heard Tetsuya say.

 

“Whatever,” Prince Taiga muttered grumpily. “And I told ya to call just call me Kagami, I don’t care about being formal with names.”

 

“Be that as it may,” Tetsuya responded, pausing before continuing. “It is a pretty unusual hobby for a prince to have. Do you always cook at home?”

 

Seijurou found himself caught just outside the door of the room, for inexplicable reasons hesitant to enter. Tetsuya didn’t typically engage in conversations the way he was with the other prince in this moment. Seijurou felt an unexpected pain in his chest.

 

“Well, yeah, I mean it’s not like Dad or Tatsuya can cook. And our chef has this idea that we eat more than we actually need to, so if I want enough to make me full, I gotta make it myself.”

 

“Your chef is probably correct,” Tetsuya said flatly. “You do eat much more than an average person, Prince Taiga.”

 

Seijurou started, not used to hearing Tetsuya make jokes like this. Every now and then, he would poke at Seijurou’s confidence (“It’s perfectly understandable that lesser soldiers should fear me. I am the best swordsman and strategist on the continent.” “That is a bit arrogant, Prince Seijurou.” “It is the truth, Tetsuya. I have yet to be defeated, therefore I am absolute.” “That is a logical fallacy, Your Majesty.”) but he did so on very rare occasions. They were much more likely to talk about the recent laws put into place on the field rotations in agriculture, the mechanisms behind magic powered machines like the aeromill and the defensive arc shield that fortified the castle from concentrated elemental spells, or works of literature and philosophy that Tetsuya had been reading that day. Deep conversations, meaningful conversations, or sometimes no conversations at all. They were just as likely to sit in silence and just bask in the comfort of one another, to enjoy the unique atmosphere of peace that soothed their minds.

 

Or so Seijurou had thought. He wondered now if perhaps Tetsuya felt uncomfortable in his presence, if he hesitated to make jokes or small talk with him.

 

“Oi,” Prince Taiga barked, banging something on the counter. “Here I am going to the trouble of teaching an amateur like you how to cook….”

 

“You’re also eating the leftover dessert plates from the night before, Prince Taiga.”

 

“So what? I’m hungry, damn it,” he grunted. “Now are ya going to pay attention or what? I’m only going to show ya once, if ya try this tomorrow and don’t know what to do, you’re on your own.”

 

“You have a very crude way of talking, Prince Taiga. A prince should use the formal language, not a dialect.”

 

“Seriously.”

 

“…I am listening, Prince Taiga.”

 

Seijurou could hear the fond amusement in Tetsuya’s voice and wondered for a moment if he was giving the other prince that small smile that he cherished so much, that he would expend every last soldier in the kingdom’s army to preserve. The small pouch in his pocket that he had taken to carrying around the past few days felt suddenly heavy, gold suddenly turned to lead.

 

Without entering the kitchen, he turned down the hallway and made the trek back to his office. There was still work to be done, after all.

 

* * *

 

The festival day and following banquet had passed in a whirl of activity and awkward conversations. Seijurou and his father had observed some of the townspeople’s group activities, like small magic scrimmages and design contests, alongside the other royal guests. He made polite smiles and polite conversation, holding tight to his princely mask, though inside a dark simmering discontent bubbled beneath. He knew that Tetsuya was likely walking around with Satsuki and Aomine, occasionally allowing them space to be a couple, however desperately the captain balked at anything remotely romantic.

 

Seijurou wished that he could join them as well, but his place was next to his father and answering the curious questions of the two princes as his father talked with King Kagami. Prince Taiga, of course, made little to no attempt at starting conversation with Seijurou, while Prince Tatsuya lingered at Seijurou’s side, asking about little customs here and there. Seijurou struggled not to let his jealousy of Prince Taiga color his interactions with him, although he suspected it would not have matter much as the other prince’s opinion of him was already quite negative. These dark feelings were not helped by the fact that he had not managed to talk with Tetsuya at all that day, leaving him to wonder if they were still meeting in the gardens for the magic show.

 

The banquet was another test of Seijurou’s patience, as his father had chosen to seat Prince Taiga on his left and Prince Tatsuya across the table from him. Had he not witnessed the interaction between the prince and his lover the day before, he might have attempted to engage him in civil conversation or ask him about his known interests, like swordsmanship. There was a cold distance between the two, despite being seated just over a foot apart, which Seijurou was used to receiving from the other prince, but Prince Taiga was clearly not used to seeing from him. Tatsuya seemed to notice the changed atmosphere between then and attempted to act as a neutral party, though his eyes kept drifting to a tall guardsman near the entrance to the throne room.

 

The banquet finally over, Seijurou headed out into the garden, his pace slowing as he walked along the hedges that formed a maze to walk through. His eyes trailed over the assortment of flowerbeds circled around elegant marble fountains and birdbaths. He always thought of his mother when he walked through the royal garden; she had spent every spare moment that she was not attending to her duties as a queen and mother there, her favorite place being the bench in the center of the garden.

 

After growing closer to Tetsuya, after several long months of casual meetings and careful sharing of his memories, he had brought him to the place that had meant so much to his mother, his father, and himself. Tetsuya’s eyes had shined with affection, like the reflection of the sun upon a crystal blue lake, and for the first time in a long while Seijurou had felt peace.

 

He reached one of the archways leading into the central garden and paused for a moment, wondering. He knew that much of his sudden fears about his relationship with Tetsuya were a combination of stress from the resent festivities, the casual familiarity that he had witnessed between him and Prince Taiga, and the weight of the event that he had planned for this night. He was being extraordinarily foolish to suddenly doubt Tetsuya, who had never once made a pretense at being anything other than honest with him. He knew his own mind and his heart. The knowledge that this was the right path had never wavered, only a momentary thought that Tetsuya might not be ready for so big a step. He supposed he was about to find out.

 

Seijurou breathed in once, deeply, to center himself and felt that indomitable core take hold again. He stepped out into the garden, his eyes instantly looking at the bench.

 

And there Tetsuya sat, his face turned toward the night sky. The small lanterns that floated softly around the garden, like jellyfish slow dancing in the ocean, drifted by and cast warm gold light upon his face. He wore a simply black coat over his shoulders and a light blue sweater underneath, his trouser-clad legs folded neatly under the bench seat. In his hands, he held a small basket.

 

Seijurou approached, his heart aching exquisitely in his chest at the perfect smile on Tetsuya’s face when he turned to greet him. “It somehow feels like it has been a long time since we last spoke,” he murmured, lowering himself onto the bench next to him. “I have missed you, Tetsuya.”

 

“Me too.” His fingers tightened on the basket when Seijurou’s eyes lingered on it curiously. After a long gaze at the basket, he opened one of the top flaps and darted a cautious look at him from the corner of his eyes. Seijurou could see that familiar wrinkle forming between his brows that signaled he was worried.

 

“I made this in the kitchens,” he admitted gingerly, his cheeks pinking. “Prince Taiga showed me how, but there not likely on par with the chef’s deserts….” He pulled out a small box and handed it tentatively to Seijurou, his eyes determinedly watching a lantern slowly curve around a statue of a water nymph to their right.

 

He took the box and slid the lid open. A small pile of chocolates, squared shaped and with a dash of white chocolate down the middle, sat ensconced on a decorative paper bottom while small clusters of strawberries sat in the corners. He stared at the chocolates for a moment in shock before feeling that familiar tidal wave of love for the man sitting next to him. Despite being the prince (and reputedly a very attractive one), Seijurou had never received homemade lover’s chocolate before on the day of the flower festival before.

 

“Thank you, Tetsuya,” he answered sincerely, lifting a piece from the box and putting it in his mouth. It tasted of smooth dark chocolate with a hint of sweetness from the white chocolate middle, maintaining a perfect balance between the bitter flavors that he enjoyed and the sweet ones that reminded him of Tetsuya. “It is delicious.”

 

Tetsuya fidgeted on the bench, his face and neck now a blazing red in the dim light, before looking at him again from the corner of his eye. “I wanted to make them vanilla flavored, until I realized that would be a bit selfish to make a flavor that I liked.”

 

Seijurou chuckled. “Even if you had, I would have appreciated the gift all the same.”

 

A spark shot into the air from beyond the garden hedge and burst into a shower of red stars in the sky. A blue and green burst followed, crackling to life against the black backdrop before hanging suspended for a moment. Yellow and then orange followed, until the sky was lit up with rainbow colored sparkles that danced faintly as they watched. Slowly, they began to converge and mix, forming different shapes in the sky. An orange and yellow moon hung over a tree and a river before whirling into a lion roaring blue and green smoke from his mouth. Small fairies made from green and yellow sparks began to dance around the lion, pulling at his mane and fluttering away.

 

Seijurou moved closer to Tetsuya, offering his warmth in the chill of the night. He turned to look at the other’s face, turned up and smiling brightly at the sky. “Tetsuya… I have something for you as well.”

 

Tetsuya turned his face to look at him curiously.

 

“My mother was fascinated with flowers. She loved the way they utilized earth magic and light magic. Loved their vibrancy, their simple, beautiful existence. She used to say that people are very similar to flowers; the wind can sweep us along like seeds caught in a spring breeze until we land in an area completely unfamiliar to our home, but we could flourish there regardless. She loved that two flowers, unique in color and shape, could find themselves planted next to each other, growing together until their roots were entwined below the earth.”

 

He pulled the velvet pouch from within the pocket on the inside of his vest, his fingers tugging the drawstring and pulling a ring from within. “That was one of her hopes for me, that I would find another person that I could share my life with, that our roots could grow together below the surface.” Seijurou smiled softly at him, taking his left hand into his own and held the ring between the palms of their hands. “Tetsuya, would you do me the honor of growing our roots together?”

 

Tetsuya was watching him with wide, shocked eyes, blinking dazedly. The magic show above them continued to sparkle and perform, casting different colors onto their faces. Tetsuya’s hand tightened around his, the ring pressing between their hands tighter, before he made that small, perfect smile.

 

“Yes, Prince Seijurou.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated!


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